


A Dip in the Mattress

by DaveandKen_Archivist



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-14
Updated: 2010-07-14
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8190421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaveandKen_Archivist/pseuds/DaveandKen_Archivist
Summary: Starsky, Hutch, a cabin, and life goes on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> by Jane.
> 
> Note from the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Dave & Ken's Diner](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Dave_%26_Ken%27s_Diner), which experienced a drop in traffic to low levels following the opening of the official Starsky & Hutch archive. Still wanting to preserve the archive, Open Doors began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. An announcement was posted to OTW media channels, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the archivist using the e-mail address on [ Dave and Ken's Diner collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/daveandkensdiner/profile).

 

Story Notes:

Many thanks to my dear friend Deb for her superb beta work. Hugs, my friend! 

 

 

The winding path seemed nearly as familiar as the journey to Parker Center from his apartment. He stumbled a few times--but only when the tears came and his vision was drowned by blurry edged prisms. The hundred yards to the tiny building seemed like endless miles that weighed down his legs and hurried his heart. Collapsing on weathered and time-worn steps, he wrapped his arms around his belly and rocked to a rhythm he held fast in his soul, and remembered.

 

~*~*~*~

“Hey, Hutch, how about this one?”

Hutch set the brochures he was studying aside and took the one Starsky offered. He couldn’t hold back his grin.  “A cabin, Starsk? In the woods with heaven-only-knows what prowling around?”

Starsky could have said forget it or let his narrowed eyes and middle finger answer for him, but he would have been lying just a little bit. “I want to be alone, Hutch.”

Hutch’s grin softened into one of Starsky’s favorite shy smiles. “So do I, babe, so do I.”

They made the arrangements together; agreeing on the tiny secluded cabin, the time frame, one bed. They would be alone there just after Labor Day, the rest of the world settling down to work and school schedules, having already had their holidays. A key under the doormat, the promise of solitude, the blossoming of love—it was all there for the taking and they both wanted it.

The day was glorious; dry and cool and full of sun and breezes and anticipation. They couldn’t say who was more nervous. Hutch looked the part—all flushed and blotchy and shaky. Starsky acted the part—telling awful jokes, asking over and over if they’d forgotten anything.

“Did I tell you the one about…?”

“Starsk.”

"Okay, okay. Hey, you have the key?”

“Nope.”

“What do you mean ‘nope’? Hutch…now I have to turn around.”

“Nope.”

“You bein’ a pain in the ass on purpose?”

Hutch didn’t get his answer out before Starsky answered for him. “Let me guess; nope.”

“Look at me, Starsk.”

“I’m driving here.”

Hutch’s fingers squeezed his knee, traveled just a bit up his thigh, and squeezed again. 

“Please.”

Starsky looked and saw that shy smile again. Saw the flush creeping up Hutch’s neck, couldn’t help but notice Hutch was squeezing his thigh again—hard.

“The key’s waiting for us under the mat, babe.”

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Hutch let up on his grip on Starsky’s thigh. Moved his hand up a few more inches and squeezed again. Testing the waters. “Nervous?”

“You kidding? What’s there to be nervous about, blondie? Not like we’re strangers.”

The fingers loosened and traced circles on the denim of Starsky’s jeans. “You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Terrified. You?”

“Terrified about covers it. Want to change your mind?”

“No.”

“Starsky…”

“Hutch, I want you to be quiet now. Leave your hand where it is, close your mouth, and for now, quit being a pain in the ass.”

“For now?”

“Yeah, for now.”

Hutch blushed and kept his hand in place. The rest of the drive was made in contemplative silence.

Not much was said when they arrived at the cabin. “Got everything?” and “Looks nice.” and “Hope the fridge is stocked.” covered things. Their world shifted the second the cabin door closed behind them, its lock snicked into place. Hutch didn’t hesitate a single moment; all the planning, the anticipation, the desire a nearly tangible force pushing him on. Starsky was gathered close, kissed soundly, reminded and reassured of his partner’s love and desire. Starsky returned the kiss, pulled back only to tell Hutch he loved him, kissed Hutch some more, and walked his soon to be lover toward the bed.

“This is it, huh? You and me…about to…”

“Still scared?”

“Some. But I…when you kiss me…dammit, Hutch. I am scared, but I want you more than I’m scared. I…this is just such a big thing, you know?”

Hutch couldn’t help himself; he had to talk about it, and he had to move away a bit before he did.

“You can still change your mind, buddy. This _is_ a big thing—it’s you and me. Two men. Who happen to be cops. We…”

“Stop it, Hutch.” Starsky shifted from one antsy foot to the other. “Quit thinking you need to talk me out of this. I want this…I want you. Come back here. Please.”

Time ceased to creep forward, stilling as Starsky and Hutch did. Face to face, less than a foot apart. Movement came back slowly; a tentative touch to a cheek, the backs of fingers trailing down a chest, lips meeting, tongues saying hello. Hutch whispered, telling Starsky he wasn’t scared anymore, it was okay to trust him, to trust them. Starsky answered with his hands--pulling at Hutch’s clothing, palming his smooth chest, tugging buttons free. Hutch’s hands were pushed aside when he tried to help.

“Let me do this myself, Hutch. This moment right now belongs to me—this is my pleasure, my half of our dream. We’ll have millions of times to undress each other, maybe undress for each other, but right now,” Starsky tugged Hutch’s jeans down, followed by his briefs, followed by a groan before he could finish his sentence, “my turn, babe.”

Hutch’s turn came when Starsky had him naked. He took it slowly, marveling in the differences between them, overjoyed at Starsky’s very apparent desire for him.

“You’re beautiful, Starsk. Your chest, your hair—so different from me but so much the same. And,” Hutch reached for Starsky’s cock, but didn’t quite touch him, a need he was not yet ready to fulfill, “I can’t believe this is going to be mine.”

“Yours, babe. Of course it will be yours.”

Time wavered again when they stood before each other--bare and without secrets, each taking his fill of looking. Starsky was the first to move. Drew Hutch into his arms, hugging him fiercely, reveling in the warmth of Hutch’s skin against his own, the tremble of long back muscles under his hands, the sweetness at the side of Hutch’s neck. Realized he had been holding his breath when Hutch found the soft, sparse patch of hair at the base of his spine and he gasped, wanting to be touched there. Wanting Hutch to be the one touching him.

“Hutch…Hutch, I feel you pressing against me. Jesus, please, touch me, let me have you.”

“You will, I promise.”  Hutch pushed his hips forward, delighted in the way his hipbones rested just above Starsky’s. Finding that patch of hair again, he played, pulling and petting and daring to offer a caress to the smooth flesh of Starsky’s bottom.

“Your hands feel so good. Let me at you now, babe, please let me…”

Hutch let him. Felt Starsky’s trembling fingers slide down his sides, trace his hip bones, find his scrotum and cock and stroke him. He cried out for Starsky—cried and thrust hard into the hand that held him. Struggled as he never had not to come at that moment, took Starsky’s mouth, whispered against his lips that he was too close, to please slow down.

Foreheads met, their bodies arching away from each other--too much, too soon threatening to bring this beginning to an end before its time. Starsky’s head was cradled in Hutch’s hands, his mouth kissed as Hutch let go. Agreed to wait for just a minute, warmed by Hutch’s soft voice telling him he wanted to get their bed ready. Their bed-- not the bed, but theirs.

Hutch pulled back the blanket and top sheet and turned to Starsky, his face soft and   filled with desire. Starsky could see the tiniest bit of doubt still there, too, just before Hutch turned his face away, the old dresser against the wall suddenly very interesting.

“Hutch, look at me.” The face Hutch turned back to him, told Starsky Hutch had all the same feelings for him, but still Hutch didn’t move to lie on the bed. . “Aww, Hutch, why is this so hard for you? I love you, I want you, I need you. I need you to believe me. Please.”

Hutch seemed to have lost the ability to move and speak. Starting to have his own doubts that Hutch would be able to go through with their plans, Starsky took charge--pushing Hutch down on the mattress and lying beside him. The mattress was old and soft, silently inviting them to roll toward each other, giving them a nest, bodies pressed close, legs twining, arms holding, cocks nestling against each other’s belly.

“Hutch, do you believe me now? That’s my cock against your stomach trying to figure out what to do with that extra cock that belongs to you.” Starsky got the hoped for smile, held Hutch’s heart tight with his next words. “But what’s happening between us right now is way more than what our bodies are feeling. This is a dream I didn’t even know I was dreaming coming true. I want you to make love to me. I want that because I love you and know you love me. Just because I’m a little scared doesn’t mean I have doubts, but you seem to. Is it because you want to change _your_ mind? You want me to change mine to make it easier for you?”

Hutch nudged his way just a bit closer. Held Starsky hard against him and kissed him before looking into his eyes. “I don’t want to change my mind. I’ll never change my mind. It’s you I want. It’s just that…I don’t have the best history…women have all…”

Starsky kissed away the rest of Hutch’s words. “My women have all left in one way or another, too, Hutch. But you’ve always been there for me and I’ll always be there for you. I won’t leave you, plain and simple. I promise.”

“Promise?”

“That’s what I said. Now how about you quit trying to analyze everything and let’s get busy doing what we came here to do. You can start by kissing me again. And again.”

Kissing and petting came naturally. Stroking erections, tonguing nipples, exploring between ass-cheeks soon did, too. Hutch drew Starsky to lie on top of him, spreading his legs so Starsky could find the leverage to thrust, and it began. Hutch came first with a wild cry for his partner, Starsky following, his cock sliding deliciously in the wet Hutch left between them, his cry quiet against Hutch’s ear. The mattress held them and they slept for a while, waking hungry for each other-- and later, after loving again, for food and drink.

Three days melted into one, the bed rarely left. A walk in the moonlight without clothes, a quick skinny dip, but always back to the old bed. Hutch took Starsky on their last day; their bodies finally as much one as their hearts had always been. Afterward they held each other, petting, making more promises, bigger decisions, vows. They would stay cops—of course they would. And they would live together, and together they would lie to keep what was now so precious between them, theirs.

And once a year, just after Labor Day, they would return to the little cabin and remember.

~*~*~*~

The pounding on the door came late in the night. Sleep had claimed him hours ago, and that was where he wanted to stay; visitors in the middle of the night were never a good thing. Especially visitors to a cop’s home. Cursing to cover his fear, he slipped into his robe, stubbed his toe on a table leg, cursed again—louder—and pulled open the door.

Dobey didn’t have to say anything. Red rimmed eyes and grey skin said enough.

“Captain?”

“I’m sorry---so damned sorry. Right in front of Parker—dammit! Right in front of _my_ house, _my_ station.” Dobey wasn’t successful trying to hide his own grief with anger.

“What…who?” Numb words, horrified, strangling on fear, choking him.

“He was going to his car…how the hell many times did I tell him to park in the lot like everyone else? If he had listened he might still be…” Dobey paused for a long minute; he had to tell him, he had to know.  “It was a deliberate hit…he didn’t have a chance. He died instantly…gunshot…”

“No. No, he promised me…he promised he would never leave. There has to be a mistake, Captain. He never once lied to me. You’re wrong—tell me you’re wrong.” He was begging, demanding something he knew he wasn’t going to get.

“He wasn’t given a choice. He didn’t mean to break his promise. You know he loved you.”

Captain Dobey, the one man who knew everything about them and never so much as batted an eye, watched the man before him fold and crumple to the floor. Watched his shoulders shake and the tears fall. Listened to him cry and quietly beg for his partner to come home. Knew it would be a long time if ever before he had this partner back.

~*~*~*~

He made it through the funeral. Let the words of praise and the honors bestowed on his lover flow over him, sometimes through him. Accepted the American flag, leaned over and kissed the casket, whispered his own final words that were his alone to hear and keep. Stood straight and proud for the final salute. Refused to wipe away the tears as Taps rolled over the silence left behind by the rifles. He left alone, quietly refusing to join the family and huge group of cops for one last remembrance over lunch. Made it to the waiting car and the privacy it offered before he started to weep. Where he wanted to be was in the simple polished coffin he had to leave behind. In his grief he made a promise to himself. He would be there soon.

~*~*~*~

Dobey gave him time off—whatever he needed, just keep in touch.

“Don’t make me worry about you. Think of your family. He would never want you to do anything stupid. You know that, don’t you?”

He knew it. Knew it would be the ultimate partner betrayal to harm himself. Still, he wondered if his broken heart knew. Wondered if he was strong enough to keep himself whole when he was anything but.

~*~*~*~

“It’s so hard, love. I miss you…I hurt.”  Words spoken to the bathroom mirror as he readied himself to go. The day was glorious, cool and breezy, almost like the change of seasons back home. Almost like that day a year ago.

The little cabin hadn’t changed much. A bit more secluded thanks to growing shrubs and trees, but pretty much as it had been. Sitting on the steps, he swiped at his tears, tried to get himself under control. The key was under the mat as promised; he let himself in and locked the door behind him.

He found himself wishing the cabin were bigger, offered more rooms to explore, could give him more time to put off what he had come there to do. Cabinets were opened even though he knew they would be empty. A can of coffee sat in the fridge, a few eggs, mug and plate on the counter. He ran the water, checked the windows, drew the draperies. Giving in to time and weariness, he stripped and showered. Left the bathroom light on and the door open just a sliver—just enough light to see where he wanted to go.

The old bed waited for him. The same quilt waited to be pulled back. Peace washed over him as he touched the soft fabric. Peace he never thought he would feel again—at least not while he lived. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he felt an overwhelming urge to pray—to ask for forgiveness, to see his love again, to feel.

The bed pulled him to the middle when he lay down; holding him, warming him, lulling him to sleep. He slept deeply, wanting to stay there, fighting the memories that threatened to wake him. Fighting them until he realized how familiar and cherished they were, how much he wanted them, how he could feel them.

The cabin was dark when he opened his eyes, the bathroom light out, only the tiniest bit of moonlight finding its way in around closed draperies. Before he had a chance to wonder at the near darkness, he saw him. Glowing in that bit of moonlight, cocooned against him in the well of the old mattress. He could smell him and feel him, hear him breathe. Desire rose within him and he felt himself get hard, felt his cock being stroked, heard that beloved voice whisper to him how much he was loved. He climaxed, hearing as he did that he was to live, to be happy, to love. The ‘someday’ would come when they would be together again, but for now, for life, he had to say goodbye.

He wanted to fight, demand that ‘someday’ be now. Anger and frustration and loneliness fell in tears that coursed down his face. He felt more than saw the thumb that wiped away his tears, felt a finger against his lips. And he felt his lover’s mouth kiss his neck just before he heard more words whispered in his ear.

“For now, honor us, babe. For me and for us. Keep what we were alive in your heart. I’ll love you for always, just like I promised.” The old mattress held him close, even as a weight rolled away from him. “Promise me.” Lips pressed against his, the fleeting press of a tongue. “See ya.”

It was very early morning when he awakened again. The curtains were drawn open, a cool breeze washed over him through raised windows he knew he had locked himself. There was another pillow beside his, flattened in the middle. The sheets around him were rumpled, the quilt he had pulled to the end of the bed, on the floor. He could smell sex, feel dried cum on his belly, still feel their lovemaking. The mattress held him close when he rolled over, as if to hug him and comfort him. He could have stayed there forever and he wanted to, but he had made a promise during the night.

“Just a few more minutes. Please, buddy. I know I promised.”

The breeze stirred again and he pulled the pillow next to him to his face and breathed deeply. The old mattress seemed to shift on its own, rolling him toward the edge, and he gave in and rose from the bed. The breeze went warm, swirling around him, holding him close, and then was gone.

He knew he was alone now. He pulled the quilt from the floor and wrapped it around his body. Stepping out on the tiny porch, he watched the sun rise. Watched the pinks and corals and yellows melt into a vivid blue sky. Blue the color of his lover’s eyes.

“I promise, babe. For always.”

Thinking to himself that is was nice to feel hunger and to crave hot coffee, he turned to go inside. One more look at the sky, a true smile brightening his face for the first time in a long time.

“See ya.”

 

 

 


End file.
